In "Transformative Experience," Laurie Ann Paul suggests there are certain "big life choices" in which "we only learn what we need to know after we've done it, and we change ourselves in the process of doing it." She argues, "The best response to this situation is to choose based on whether we want to discover who we'll become." If you are happy to be who you are and have no interest in discovering who you'll become, this Christmas season won't pose any particular challenge. You can ignore the depth of the holiday while reveling in sentimentality and the wholesome rituals that tend to tame Christmas and blunt its message.
Yet, for those among us who have a sense that what we see before us is not all there is, Christmas is more than a reminder of the incarnation of Christ, which calls the way we live our lives into question. In coming to "seek and save the lost" (Lk 19:10), Jesus not only made a way for sinners to be reconciled to God; he also confronts a way of being in the world that seeks one's own advantage. The incarnation is not simply the means by which we are saved from an eternal life apart from God's presence, but a demonstration of the "newness of life" (Rom 6:4) in which we are to walk as Christians. We, like Christ, are to recognize that our newfound position as saints and children of God is not to be used for our own advantage, but that we find ourselves by giving ourselves away (Phil 2:5-11).
Picturing the small, innocent baby Jesus in his manger can lull us into a false sense that Christmas is the celebration of the moment God gave us a precious gift. It certainly is that, but it is not only that because the gift is not only a gift. Christ is a gift and a stumbling block (Rom 9:30-33; 1 Cor 1:23; 1 Pt 2:4-7). He brings salvation and a challenge. That challenge was recognized by Herod who saw Jesus as a threat to his rule (Matt 2:1-4). Not ready to surrender the status quo, Herod took desperate measures to find and kill Jesus (2:13-18). Though he did not succeed, he was right to perceive Jesus as a threat to all those who desire to maintain the current world order. Jesus challenges the existing state of affairs, as do those who follow him.
Christmas, along with Easter, point back to redefining moments in which the status quo is obliterated. In the incarnation and resurrection, the world changed on a fundamental level. God became man and death was defeated. These events are not part of the status quo. They press us into a transformative experience by ushering us into a world in which the hopes of the world are found not with a political strategy, military hero, or technological innovation, but in Immanuel.
Christmas, then, is not simply a time when we remember the coming of our Savior. It is a time when we must take stock of our way of life. We must ask ourselves whether we are living in a manner that echoes Christ's incarnation. We cannot know how living this way will change us until we do it. When Christ says, "Foxes have dens and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head" (Matt 8:20), the implications are clear enough. Yet, it isn't always clear what a radical commitment to following Christ would be. What might it mean, for instance, for Christians to be "all things to all people, that by all means I [we] might save some" (1 Cor 9:22)? Are we prepared to set aside our agendas, passions, or concerns – however legitimate – to live as women and men who, like Abraham, are willing to demonstrate our fear of the Lord by acting in ways that defy the logic of the systems we inhabit?
Christmas inspires us to look beyond the fashions of the day. It challenges us to remember that we are not obliged to the status quo and its expectations, which deny Jesus and the possibilities he brings. As such, in the celebration of Christ's birth, we have the opportunity, if not the obligation, to follow Christ on a journey that will change us in ways we cannot fully grasp until we take it.